A Bit of Stimulus
by The Seventh L
Summary: A rainy day prompts a random evaluation of Lawrence's business practices by a very nosy wolf.  /Written for Springkink at Livejournal. Lawrence/Horo./


At first, Horo did not understand the value of currency. Not like Lawrence did, seasoned merchant that he was. He did not, for example, spend all his preciously earned coins on apples to be wolfed down in the next minute; he understood the importance of saving. Horo, hot-headed and stubborn as she was, did not. Coin slipped through her fingers as quickly as it appeared, with the only apparent beneficiary of it being her stomach. But Horo was, if anything, a fast learner. Okay – moderately paced learner. At least she was _clever_.

Another small trading town and another inn that didn't think twice about renting out a room to a merchant and his attractive yet keen-eyed female companion. Lawrence had been hoping to do some business in the town's beautiful open air market but the rain falling across the roofs and windows in watery sheets instantly extinguished any hope of that, at least until it dried out. So he ended up playing professor for a bored and apple-less Horo, who was eager to see if it was possible to make Lawrence flustered and trip himself up over the one thing he was good at: money.

As usual, Horo was spread out across the bed, legs stretched out to a point where human legs would break. She was in one of her more curious moods; an apple she'd managed to save from the day before sat lazily in her palm, as if she was more content with playing with it than devouring it whole. She was also needling Lawrence about his current activities; he was reviewing his current store of coin and matching it against his ledger for accuracy. Horo sniffed loudly, the kind of sniff that always means someone is looking for attention. Luckily for her, Lawrence looked up to see what was going on.

She yawned widely, flashing her fangs as she did. "Whatever are you doing, you curious human? And more importantly, why aren't you entertaining me? I am bored – sing me a song."

Lawrence couldn't help but smile a little; this was typical Horo on a rainy day. At least she wasn't scratching at the window or thumping her tail against the bed (again). "Making sure my records are in order, wolf. A merchant must be assured on a regular basis that his capital is secure or else something's gone wrong. It is required if you want to run a business properly."

Horo harrumphed. "It is boring, you mean. And pointless. You're not even going to spend any of it once you're done! Just buy more stuff to sell. What is the use?"

"It's how I make my living." Lawrence flipped a page without really reading it; his attention had been diverted by the sight of Horo with her head held up by her hands, apple resting soundly on the duvet by her elbow. Her sharp eyes followed the man's every movement, and he could hear the sound of her tail twitching underneath her skirt. Well, _his_ skirt, really. Her tab, which included such luxuries as hand-sewn garments and honey-preserved fruit, was still open and actively rising by the day.

"But you never _spend_ it on anything. What is the point of it? Do you not enjoy eating fine foods and wearing comfortable clothes?"

"We are all not as extravagant as some, wise wolf." Lawrence shut the ledger closed with a quiet sigh; he just knew there was no way he could concentrate throughout Horo's usual haughty tirades. He was also pretty sure that Horo had just insulted his taste in apparel without outright saying so. It wasn't his fault the outfit of a seasoned merchant was meant not to attract attention, or to detract from the quality of their wares. "As an experienced merchant, if I cannot show that I can gather wealth successfully then I don't have much of a business, do I?"

"Still. What is the point of amassing wealth only to keep it? Capital needs to be invested and circulated, not hoarded." Her words set Lawrence back a bit; he blinked. She had actually sprung a half-decent argument on him. Well, perhaps the wise wolf was paying attention to his off-hand economic lectures after all. "Even a miser like you would agree."

"All right then." He grimaced. "I'll ignore the miser part – what would you suggest I do with all my capital? How should I, as you put it, invest and circulate it?"

Horo shrugged, absentmindedly rolling the apple around in the palm of her hand. "One could purchase a shop, or a house in a developing village. But I suppose that isn't good enough for someone like you. No, a man like you who deals and sells goods should continue that course of action, don't you think? One cannot support the market without putting more money into the hands of your fellow merchants who keep the market alive." And then she sighed and shrugged yet again, as if to say _but what do I know_ – clever little wolf that she was.

"Oh, but of course. I should just step into the marketplace once the rain clears and spend money on – new clothes?" Lawrence picked at a random thread on his sleeve, as if it were underneath his level of quality. "Maybe I could go to a tailor and order a new suit? A man in business must look his best. Something grey, maybe?"

The wolf made a sound suspiciously like that of thinly disguised annoyance. "If that pleases you." She eyed him up. "I would think your current outfit is good enough."

"Do you?" Lawrence teased. He leaned back in his chair, perfectly aware of Horo's irritation. "I suppose it is. Or perhaps I could buy something more perishable? A ripe persimmon or a fuzzy nectarine – those sound particularly good. Or maybe something a bit redder in color – it is apple season after all and I am hungry."

"You . . . you are _not_ amusing." The look on Horo's face was a cross between anger and embarrassment. "I know exactly what you're playing at and it is not funny!"

Even Lawrence couldn't deny that Horo's flushed face made him feel a little guilty for needling her so. He scooted his chair quietly across the floor until he sat next to the fuming Horo. "I am sorry for teasing you, then. Would you like me to apologize properly?"

Horo's wolfish ears suddenly became a lot more cheerful. Still, she was cautious. "Continue, wise merchant. What kind of apology would it be? I cannot have mere mortals insulting my pride without a price, you know."

"It's a surprise."

Her ears dropped again. "Oh. I do not like surprises."

"Not even if they are sweet?"

That was enough to pique the woman's attention even more. "Well, if it is _sweets_ you are offering, then I can most certainly forgive your current indiscretions." A positively wolfish grin formed on her face. "Once they are in my hands, of course."

Lawrence groaned. It seemed as though just then the sound of the rain outside got louder, as if to taunt his misfortune. "You know very well that won't be until the rain stops," he protested. "If you want your honeyed fruits, then you will have to wait."

Her hands rose up in a flash and before Lawrence could begin to protest, he was lying on the bed, his back being pressed into the blankets by the quick palms of his companion. Horo leaned forward. Her long hair brushed across the man's cheek; he couldn't help but notice how soft it was and involuntarily shivered.

"Who said anything about _fruit, _human?"

With that, Lawrence soon forgot all about his books and figures and gave in to the wise wolf's equally wise hands and mouth. And if either of them noticed the rain starting to die down outside their window, neither made any effort to care. They were too busy involved in figures of another sort.


End file.
